Running the "Race"

I know, you are waiting to hear about my Florida trip and to see all the pictures. But, before I get to that I have to post a memorable moment.

Yesterday was Brother's Hershey Track meet. Remember from last year...

The track meet was yesterday, Tuesday  and I only heard about it on Monday because of our vacation. It started at 9:30am. I had made an Occupational Therapy appointment for Baby at 10:30am. I was hoping I would be able to make it anyway. Monday night my mom and dad came for dinner so that they could see all our pictures from Florida. I mentioned in passing that Brother's Hershey Track meet was the next morning if they wanted to come.

At 10am on Tuesday morning my mom called me from the track wondering if I was there. I explained to her my situation and told her that I would get there as soon as I could.

I didn't make it to his track meet. I was sad, but, hoped that his Nana being there would suffice. I am happy and humbled to say, she did more than that.

My mom tells the story kind of like this, "I was looking everywhere for him and then I heard, 'Nana! Nana!' When I walked up to him on the bleachers he acted shy and embarrassed. It was so cold out there. His skinny little body was so frozen and he had two jackets on to keep him warm. I went and got an old, dirty blanket that was in the back of the van to keep him and his friends warm. They all snuggled in it. It was so cute. Brother is so skinny and so sweet. Then he was going to run his [100 meter] race. I stayed along the side of the track on the grass to cheer him on. He started running, his big jacket and hood over his face. Then a little more than half way through the race he realized no one was around him running anymore and he just stopped. They had all already crossed the finish line..."

At this point I am teary eyed thinking of my vulnerable little boy so unassuming as to what was really happening. Wondering if anyone was laughing at him or pointing at him.

My heart sank.

I felt for him.

Then my mom continues, "I kept cheering him on. 'Come on, [Brother], let's go. Let's finish the race. Run!' He just stood there looking around. So I started running along the side of the track with him to encourage him to finish the race."

And she did.

My mom ran alongside him and he finished the race.

Last.

Dead last.

But, proud.

Completely oblivious to anyone's tears as he crossed the finish line alone.

Am I proud?

You bet I am.

Am I thankful my mom was there for him?

For me?

You bet I am.

My family, and I have a unique priviledge of watching my children run the "race" day after day.

They run hard.

And I know, in the end, they will reach the finish line...

winners!